


Drunk but sober

by gayvodkalarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drunk Liam, Drunken Texts, Heartbroken Zayn, M/M, Phone Call, Tears, They love each other, can’t see them sad oof, enjoy, it gets happy in the end though, okay that’s it, shouting, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 14:23:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17469275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayvodkalarry/pseuds/gayvodkalarry
Summary: in which liam sends zayn a drunk text on their hiatus





	Drunk but sober

**Author's Note:**

> in which liam sends zayn a drunk text on their hiatus
> 
> or
> 
> liam re-enters zayn’s life one night and it’ll never be the same again.
> 
> so, this is an idea I got while I was in the shower (that’s a really inspirational place lmao) and basically, it’s just Liam and Zayn being Liam and Zayn, you know what i mean.
> 
> please do not steal, this is an original work, and if anyone finds it anywhere without credits, please report them to me. plagiarism is illegal. 
> 
> sooo, I guess that’s it! enjoy reading!

Zayn lit up his cigarette, looking at the dark sky, as he walked around the roof of his house.

He opened his mouth, the smoke escaping his lips in a gentle, subtly seductive manner.

He sighed, enjoying the silence of the night. He liked it, he liked being alone, in peace, with no one to tell him otherwise.

All his friends knew not to bother him at one in the morning, so when his phone vibrated in his jean pocket, he frowned.

He let it ring, trying to block out the ringtone of his phone, concentrating on counting the endless stars in the sky instead.

But then it rang again. Zayn stubbed out his cigarette, sighing, as he fished out his phone from the pocket.

Unknown number, it said.

Was it worth picking up?

Zayn bit his lip, but decided to answer before it stopped ringing.

“Hello?” He spoke into the phone, sitting down on the edge of the roof, his legs dangling.

“Zayn,”

And Zayn cut the call.

He tried to control his breathing, which had, without his knowledge, become terribly heavy. His heart rate was so wildly quick, he thought his heart would jump out.

He got a notification then.

unknown number: i miss you

Zayn groaned, on the verge of hysteria, as he held his face in his palms, wanting to scream.

He wanted to throw his phone away, somewhere he could never find it again, but instead, he only stared at that notification.

His past was behind him. After years of difficultly, he was fine again. He was alright, and now...

Another message popped up, and Zayn only stared at it, his eyes wide as he sat completely still, as if Liam would find out that his messages were being read.

unknown number: i liked hearing your voice  
unknown number: i miss your voice

Zayn cried out, as if he was feeling some sort of a physical pain. But this was much more than that. His heart ached, as he held the phone in his hand, staring at it, his hands shivering.

He attempted to control his breathing, hoping that he wouldn’t get a panic attack. He really didn’t want to go back down that road.

unknown number: i know you’re reading this

Zayn bit his lip which shivered, trying to get himself under control.

unknown number: and i understand that you don’t want to answer

unknown number: but i’m sorry

That was it for Zayn. That was the last straw. A sob wracked through his body, his whole being shaking, as he covered his mouth with his palm.

And then the messages stopped. He wanted to scream, shout, hit something, kick something, but he did none of that.

He took a deep breath, and unlocked his phone. Whatever he was doing was out of impulse and emotion.

He opened his messages and typed furiously, his vision blurring by his tears he didn’t understand _when_ started welling up in his eyes.

zayn: you can’t just do that.

He wrote, waiting for a reply, wiping away any trace of tears.

unknown number: i’m sorry

Was the reply.

Zayn groaned, starting to type again.

zayn: you can’t just do that liam. it’s not fair to me.

He wrote, and as if that wasn’t enough, he sent out another message.

zayn: it’s not fair.

There was no reply then. Zayn grunted in frustration, standing up and rushing back down to his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

There was no message, there was a phone call.

Zayn looked at his phone screen, where the unknown number he knew too well was calling.

A shiver ran down his spine, as for the second time that night, he picked it up.

“ _Zayn_ ,” Liam breathed, as if he couldn’t believe the man had answered his call.

Zayn didn’t reply, letting out shaky breaths.

“ _Zayn_ , _I’m so sorry_ , _you’re perfect_ ,” Liam giggled at the end.

Zayn frowned, because what?

“Liam,” he breathed into the phone, the name, even though never said aloud in the past three years, fresh and sweet on his tongue.

Liam giggled again, and Zayn gasped lightly in realisation.

Of course Liam was drunk. Of course he was.

He would never apologise while sober. Never.

Zayn’s senses suddenly sharpened, as he heard the club music playing in the background.

Running a hand through his hair, he sighed, biting his lip.  
“Liam, you’re drunk,” he stated, falling down on his bed, his knees too weak to keep him steady.

“ _No!_ ” Liam hiccuped, making Zayn wince slightly.

“ _You’re drunk!_ ” He laughed childishly, making Zayn’s eyes well up once again. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t.

“Liam, please go home. Call a cab, and go home,” Zayn said blandly, trying to keep all the emotion out of his voice.

“ _I’m here, in LA. I know you are too_.” Liam said, and Zayn could actually _hear_ the people singing along to those club songs and asking for another drink.

“ _Can I come to your house?_ ” And the innocence in Liam’s voice made Zayn’s heart ache.

“No, Liam, you will catch a cab and go to _your_ home, understand?” Zayn tried to tell him, pronouncing each word more prominently and slower than usual.

There was a throbbing and continuous pain in his heart, knowing that Liam was right here, in the place where Zayn was.

“ _No, I—_ “ He hiccuped.  
“ _I will come to your home_ ,” he finished stubbornly.

“ _Want to see you_ ,” he continued, and Zayn could picture the pout on his face as he tried to make a point.

He whimpered at the memories that came rushing back to him. All the times Liam had pouted and Zayn hadn’t been able to resist it. Times like when Zayn wanted cheese popcorn but Liam made him finally get the caramel one, using that same pout as his weapon. Zayn would roll his eyes but comply nonetheless. They would kiss it out later.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to get rid of all those memories for good.

“Please,” Zayn whispered, he didn’t know what he was pleading for, dropping the phone on his bed, beside him, and crying.

*

The doorbell rang.

 _No_ , Zayn thought.

_No no no no no._

He stood up from his bed, hesitantly walking down the stairs and towards the main door.

He gulped, making the mistake of looking through the key hole.

He didn’t want to open the door, he really didn’t. But it was practically freezing outside, and Liam was drunk. Leaving him outside would be cruelty.

And so, Zayn slowly opened the door, not daring to make eye contact with the man who made him feel. Love, trust, pain, heartbreak.

“Zaynie!” Liam squealed, attaching himself to Zayn, who stood as stiff as an iron rod.

Liam enveloped him in a warm hug, his cheek touching Zayn’s and Zayn hoped Liam couldn’t hear his raging heartbeat or the blood roaring in his ears.

“Where’s your jacket?” Zayn asked, his caring nature kicking in as he felt Liam to be cold by skin.

Zayn could avoid Liam all he wanted, but once he was in front of him, there was no going back. It was like a reflex action, caring for Liam. Zayn really couldn’t help it.

“Jacket? Jacket— _Oh_ ,” Liam spoke, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around before finally understanding what Zayn meant.

“I lost it somewhere in the club. So many lights, dim lights, I lost it, sorry.” Liam apologised, looking directly into Zayn’s eyes.

Zayn wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. He missed those eyes. He could see them when he closed his eyes, but he would never admit that to anyone.

“It’s—It’s not your fault, it’s okay.” He mumbled, pulling Liam inside the house and closing the door, shielding them from the cool breeze.

Liam, even with Zayn’s support, stumbled on his own feet, making Zayn hold him tighter to keep him from falling.

“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?” Zayn muttered, walking Liam to the couch.

“Just a little tipsy,” Liam replied, as he placed a sloppy kiss on Zayn’s cheek, giggling.

Zayn wanted to cry.

“I told you to go to your own house, Liam.” He stated, dropping Liam on the couch, making him fall with a gentle thud.

Liam quietly looked up at Zayn’s standing figure, with big innocent eyes.

Zayn sighed, sitting down beside him, his palm covering his face.

And then he heard a whimper.

Zayn abruptly snapped his eyes to look at Liam, who was currently crying softly.

Zayn’s heart ached.

Please, he thought.

Once again, he didn’t know what he was pleading for.

“Liam?” He softly urged, turning fully to look at the brunette.

“I’ve wanted to—“ Liam hiccuped, his words coming to an incomplete halt.

“You’ve wanted to what?” Zayn urged, sitting on the edge of the couch, all his attention on the man he once loved.

_Still loved._

“I’ve always wanted to say sorry,” he completed, his lips forming a sad pout as he looked into Zayn’s eyes with welled up tears in his own.

Zayn stuttered, as words had difficulty coming out of his mouth. He ended up saying nothing at all.

He tried to control his emotions before he said something stupid, but he could not control the tears that pooled in his eyes.

“Just go to sleep, Liam.” He barely got out, his voice cracking at the end.

“You never call me Liam.” Liam stated sadly, his pout becoming even more prominent as one traitorous tear escaped his eyes and rolled down his cheek.

“Just go to sleep,” Zayn repeated, trying to ignore Liam’s last statement, as he stood up, motioning Liam to get up too, so he could go to bed.

Liam stumbled a bit as he tried to stand up, and Zayn, on instinct, placed his palm on the small of Liam’s back, holding him up in place.

“Come on,” He said, taking Liam to one of his guest bedrooms on the ground floor itself.

“Sleep,” Zayn instructed, making Liam lie down on the bed silently.

“Don’t go anywhere tomorrow,” Liam mumbled, looking up at Zayn as he put the blanket on top of Liam.

“It’s my house, Liam, I can’t go anywhere.” Zayn spoke, taking two steps away from the bed.

Liam only stared like he knew Zayn could run away and not come back the whole day. And he was right.

So Zayn sighed.  
“Fine,” he reluctantly said, crossing his arms over his chest as he bit his lip.

Liam sighed in relief, closing his eyes in an attempt to sleep.

“Good night,” he whispered, just as Zayn was leaving the room.

“Yeah, night.” Zayn replied, just as soft, closing the door behind him, proceeding to climb up the stairs to his own room.

Zayn didn’t get a wink of sleep that night.

*

Liam woke up feeling confused and completely out of place.

“Huh?” He said incoherently, as he looked up at the unfamiliar ceiling.

He shot upright, but regretted it immediately, as the piercing headache greeted him morning.

He groaned, clutching his head tightly, as he tried to think about where he was.

It never happened much, that we woke up, unaware of his own whereabouts.

But here he was.

He looked around at the unfamiliar pieces of furniture, deep in thought.

That’s embarrassing, sleeping with someone and not being able to remember their name or that you actually even slept with them.

But then Liam realised he was wearing his black tee shirt and jeans he had been wearing last night.

And where was his jacket?

“Fuck,” he cursed, that was his favourite jacket.

Of course he had to misplace it.

His gaze fell on the bedside table and his eyes went as wide as saucers.

_Advil and water._

The paper read, tucked neatly under the glass of water.

But that wasn’t it. It was the handwriting, he knew that handwriting very well.

“Shit,” he cursed once again, coming to a conclusion. But it couldn’t be, could it?

Sure, some people have similar handwriting. But he could recognise this handwriting in his sleep.

He hoped he was wrong.

He slowly climbed off the bed, dreading what was to follow.

He took the medicine, and walked out of the room.

It was a nice house, great even, but he told himself not to think about that right now.

He walked slowly, trying to keep his volume to a minimum. He didn’t want to break the silence that was in this house.

He looked around curiously, and dreadfully, because at the back of his head, he did have an idea of what was to come. But at the same time, he didn’t.

He reached the living room, where it was empty and clean. Clean? Maybe it wasn’t who he thought it was, after all. That thought made a slight relief go through him, but he also felt disappointed.

Why?

He looked around, but there was absolutely no one on the ground floor.

He thought of climbing up the stair case to check, but that would be like invading someone’s privacy.

But what else could he do? He didn’t know where he was, whose house this was, and what exactly was going on.

What if the owner of this house wasn’t at home at all? The thought of leaving just like that crossed Liam’s mind but he thought that would be rude. He should at least say thank you to the person who took care of him.

He couldn’t just _leave_.

So he stood awkwardly, and waited, he waited for some sort of a noise, some movement, _something_.

What if the owner was still asleep?  
That actually did seem like a possible situation. But what should he do now? Wake them up?

No, no, no, he thought to himself.

_He would be absolutely grumpy if I woke him up._

Liam shook his head, trying to shake the thought out too.

And what was the time anyway?

He looked around for a clock and finally spotted one.

_7:48_

Well, that’s kind of early.

Liam thought deeply, finally deciding on making breakfast.

The ingredients were there, for a simple bacon and eggs. So he began making breakfast for two.

*

Zayn groaned, falling off the bed in his room with a not so soft thud.

He groaned once again, his hand traveling to his back, gently massaging it to heal the slight damage.

When did he fall asleep anyway?

He decided to sleep for another five minutes.

Zayn was definitely not a morning person. And any disturbances while he slept, were really not welcomed.

After what felt like ten seconds but were actually ten minutes, he stood up from the floor. Thank god for the carpet.

He stretched like he did every morning, looking around in a daze, trying to figure out what was going on.

And then it all hit him. _Hard_.

“Fuck,” he mumbled a curse.

Was Liam still down there? Was he sleeping? Did he leave?

For some unknown reason, his last question made his heart clench.

He quickly brushed his teeth, and rushed down the stairs.

There what he saw, almost looked _normal_. And that hurt. Because there was no normal for Zayn anymore.

Liam was busy humming a tune as he set the table for breakfast which he had made.

Zayn only stared, his heart aching with all the memories the scene in front of him brought back.

He wanted to sneak up on Liam and wrap his arms around Liam’s waist, placing a sweet kiss to his cheek, making him laugh.

But he couldn’t. That was what he used to do. He couldn’t afford to do that now.

So finally, after gathering a lot of courage, he said: “Liam,”

And Liam’s head snapped up to him so hard, Zayn was worried maybe he broke his neck.

Liam’s mouth went agape as he stared at Zayn in shock.

“Fuck, it _is_ you,” Liam said, coming to a sudden realisation to what he knew all along.

“I mean, it _is_ my house,” Zayn shrugged, his hands in his sweatpants’ pockets, a blank look on his face. He was trying so hard not to let his emotions flow.

“Yeah, that’s—that’s true. Um, breakfast?” Liam offered sheepishly, a hesitant smile on his face as he waited for Zayn’s reply.

“Sure,” Zayn said, walking towards the table and taking his seat across from Liam.

They ate in silence, an awkward silence, and Zayn couldn’t remember when he had felt awkward with Liam. Never, probably. So this was new.

“Okay, just tell me what happened last night, please.” Liam spoke finally, placing his fork on the plate and looking at Zayn pleadingly.

Zayn didn’t look up at Liam. He couldn’t.

He kept moving around the food in his plate as he began speaking.

“You were drunk.” He said, waiting for Liam’s response.

“What?” Liam said, not believing that Zayn was actually speaking the obvious.

“Wasted, hammered,” Zayn provided some synonyms as he stopped fidgeting with the food on his plate and finally, blankly, looked up at Liam.

“Yeah, yeah, _I know that_.” Liam rolled his eyes.

“Well, then why’re you asking?” Zayn said, standing up from his seat.

Liam stood up too, his palms flat on the surface of the table as he leaned forward.

“Listen, just tell me what you know I’m asking you, will you?” He spoke, narrowing his eyes at Zayn.

“Fine,” Zayn snapped, smashing his fists lightly on the same table, leaning forward as well.

“You want to know? _Fine_ , I’ll tell you.” He glared at Liam, not breaking the eye contact.

“You were fucking drunk, and you called me, and messaged me and told me you missed me and that you were sorry.” Zayn spoke with emphasis, gaining satisfaction at Liam’s surprised face.

“I told you to go home, but you came here instead. What was I supposed to do? Leave you out there in the cold? You even lost your jacket,” Zayn hissed, his glare becoming more and more strong.

“How do you know that?” Liam mumbled, referring to the jacket.

Zayn looked at him as if saying: really?

“You _told_ me, that’s why, Liam.” He sighed, taking a step away from the table, slouching.

He covered his face with his palms, clearly stressing out.

“What’s your problem?” He asked, looking into Liam’s eyes, glaring at him.

“I–“ Liam didn’t know what to say, as he noticed Zayn walking towards him, angry and hurt.

“You can’t just do that to me, Liam. You can’t just decide to come back into my life one day. One random day. I was doing well, for once. But you had to spoil it!” Zayn let out, pushing Liam at his chest, making him stumble backwards at the sudden impact.

“Zee—“ Liam started, but was harshly cut off by another blow to his chest.

“Don’t call me that,” Zayn growled, walking closer as Liam took steps backward.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright?” Liam tried to speak, his arms up in surrender, a worried look on his face. Zayn looked mad. Angry.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” Zayn stated, laughing humourlessly, as he kept walking towards Liam, and Liam, away from him.

“I know, but–Zayn, please, just,” Liam cut himself off, having no explanation for his actions in the past three years.

“Just what?” Zayn prompted mockingly, coming to a halt as Liam stood against the wall behind him.

“I don’t know,” Liam mumbled, looking away, guilty.

Zayn’s face softened at that for a second, before turning back to blank again.

“I want an explanation.” Zayn shrugged, waiting, tapping his foot against the floor repeatedly.

“I don’t have one,” Liam admitted, pouting sadly, not being able to meet Zayn’s eyes.

“You mean there’s absolutely no explanation for your actions over the past three years?” Zayn asked, his eyes wide in disbelief.

When Liam didn’t reply, Zayn gasped.

“I didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve any of that!” He exclaimed, running a hasty hand through his hair, stepping away from Liam in shock.

“No, you didn’t deserve that.” Liam mumbled, barely audible, as he bit his lip, not being able to see Zayn look this hurt.

“I was scared of love, okay?” Liam finally spoke, looking at Zayn.

Zayn looked right back, questioningly.

“I was scared, because I was falling in love with you. You were becoming my everything. So quickly. I was so dependent on you, I felt like it was unhealthy. I’m sorry,” he apologised, a tear escaping his eye.

“Liam,” Zayn sighed, looking at the man he still loved.

“Please don’t call me that,” Liam said, and burst into a sob.

Zayn couldn’t help himself, he rushed to Liam’s side and pulled him into a hug.

Liam mumbled a string of sorry’s, hugging Zayn back so tight, Zayn felt like he needed to reciprocate by holding him tighter.

They stayed in each other’s embrace until Liam stepped back.

“This was a bad idea, you know how I get when I’m drunk,” Liam shook his head, wiping away the tears as he sniffed.

“I should go,” he mumbled, turning around to head for the main door.

“No!” Zayn almost shouted, grabbing Liam’s wrist and pulling him back, away from the door that Liam would’ve walked through, walking away from Zayn forever.

“No,” Zayn repeated softly, shaking his head at Liam who only stared at him with red eyes.

What was Zayn supposed to do now? Liam was in love with him? But that still didn’t fully justify his actions.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He asked, almost on the verge of hysteria for the second time in 24 hours.

“Because I thought you didn’t feel the same, and—“ Liam cut himself off with a sigh.  
“And what?” Zayn prompted, a desperate look in his eyes.

“—and you were with Gigi,” he reluctantly completed, a mumbling mess as he tried to pull away from Zayn.

Zayn stood in shock, surprised and lost as Liam stepped away from him.

“It’s true that I love her but—“ Zayn started but was cut off by Liam’s audible gasp.

“Yeah, I-I know, I’m sorry, of course you love her. You have the right to move on, I’m the moron here, I—“

“Liam, would you just let me complete my sentences?” Zayn asked in frustration, tugging at his hair as he groaned in annoyance.

“You keep talking over me! I love her, but _not_ in the way I love you! I’m _in love_ with you and only you, you idiot! _You_ left me, remember? I didn’t move on, I _couldn’t_ , I fucking love you, is that a confirmation enough?” Zayn finished, his eyes blown wide as he breathed heavily, his chest heaving, as he stared at Liam.

Liam. Who was staring at Zayn with his mouth agape and eyes wide, frozen.

And then he laughed. He actually laughed. Zayn looked at him, but even he couldn’t stop the upward curve of his lips, before they were both trying to catch a breath from laughing too hard.

“We’re idiots,” Liam concluded, his shoulders dropping as he shook his head.  
“Yeah, glad you finally realised,” Zayn countered, running a hand through his hair.

“But so you mean, both of us have loved each other the whole time, but still?” Liam trailed off, his voice breathy and filled with disbelief.  
“Fucking hell,” he commented on his own realisation, biting his lip before looking at Zayn.

Zayn pursed his lips, shrugging, as he licked his lips.  
“You were the one who went without an explanation,” he spoke, his gaze pinning Liam permanently.

Liam sighed, genuinely sorry.  
“Yeah, I know, my bad,”

Zayn chuckled, his eyes wide in surprise.  
“My bad? Really? _My bad_ , Li?”

Liam’s eyes lit up as he acknowledged the nickname, a tiny smile on his face.

Zayn snorted, grabbing Liam’s wrist and pulling him to the stairway to his room.

“What are you doing?” Liam asked, not stopping Zayn in any way.

Zayn looked back with a smirk.  
“Making up for lost time,”

And yes, there were too many things for them to sort out, but you know, who was better at procrastinating and avoiding for as long as possible than them?

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! I hope it was worthy of your time aha 
> 
> please leave an honest opinion I’m only sixteen years old :) (lmao)
> 
> my twitter: @honeyitsnapchat


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